


Hot Breath

by Bonfoi



Series: D_D Kinky Kristmas Comment Fic Stockings Stuffed 2016 [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comment Fic, Community: daily_deviant, Gift Fic, Incubus Blaise, Kinky Kristmas Fest, M/M, Seduction, incubus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 08:37:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5702017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bonfoi/pseuds/Bonfoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the end of the war, after the battles have been fought, Slytherins are allowed to resume their studies at Hogwarts, but in order to do so, they must submit to an interview, a probing, enlightening interview.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot Breath

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elfflame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfflame/gifts).



> **Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

_"Zabini, Blaise please report to the Transfiguration classroom for your interview."_

The call caught Blaise off-guard. He'd only just been released from the infirmary, and his head still felt too small for all the information and pain it had been hit with through out the day. Still, he stood up and straightened his robes, smirking at the Gryffindor Trio as he passed by them. He ignored Weasley's glare but put a bit of extra _saucy_ into the sway of his hips as he noticed Draco's speccy git couldn't quite tear his eyes away from it.

Once out of sight of anyone of note, Blaise stood taller and marched to the Transfiguration Classroom. He came to the closed door, knocked, and then entered as a deep voice—dark, rich like Mama's favorite Belgian chocolate, and so very warm like pumping blood—called out, "Come in."

Blaise turned the doorknob and stepped through the opened door without looking at the body that voice belonged to. He knew he'd have to look, but for the past two years he'd been so disappointed by the promise of a voice...

"Mr. Zabini, I'm Auror Shacklebolt. I'll be conducting today's interview. You'll have another one in a week with someone else. Now, before we begin, do you have any questions for me?" The auror looked down at his notes, ignoring Blaise's gobsmacked expression. When no words were uttered, the auror began speaking again.

"Well, then, please be seated, Mr. Zabini." He looked down at a separate sheet of notes in another's hand. "From our preliminary reports, you were not present for the battle. Is that correct?" That dark voice stopped and Blaise blinked his eyes trying to understand what had been said.

"Ah...no, no I was not, kind sir." Blaise winced internally as he felt the caged power he always fought against flexing inside him, taunting him by replaying the other man's voice over and over in his head. "I was too smart to be caught up in a losing proposition." He crossed his arms over his chest, really just an elegant way of wrapping his arms around his treacherous body before he could launch it over the desk and at the warm, male body on its other side.

"Please relate the events prior to the battle...Blaise."

"I was..." he licked his lips, noticing how the other man's eyes seemed to follow the tip of his tongue as it peeked out between his lips, "I was in the Slytherin Common Room when word came down to evacuate. I left with the others and came out in the Hog's Head, a remarkably ramshackle pub for a Dumbledore to own, if I may say so." He licked his lips again, noticing a faint tightening of fingers upon the hand that held the quill making notations on a piece of parchment.

A spark of deviltry woke up in Blaise and he leaned forward, putting his hand on that writing hand. There was a frisson of _something_ that passed between them before the auror removed his hand from under Blaise's fingers.

"There's no mention that you are of incubus blood in our files, Mr. Zabini." Blaise gave a start and sank back in his chair, arms now tucked into his armpits as he'd done as a small child getting a scolding. "Now, it's nothing to be ashamed of, Blaise. After all," the auror leaned forward and grinned darkly, "it takes one to know one."

Blaise huddled farther away, caught, recognized...trapped. His mother had warned him that other incubi would hate him, would rend him limb from limb...

"It's been too long, hasn't it, little one?" Blaise had missed the auror rising from his seat and moving around the table to stand at his side. "You've been surrounded by flesh and temptation for weeks without a chance to properly feed, haven't you?" A large, strong, powerful hand curled around Blaise's shoulder and pulled him into the standing man's side, against his muscular thigh. Something in Blaise loosed and he relaxed into the heat, the power.

"I can help you, little one. I can make it a little bit better." The auror's other hand turned Blaise's face up. "Would you like to feel better?" Blaise nodded against that perfect thigh. "Then stand up, boy, and sit on the edge of the table."

The auror—Blaise thought he should at least call him _Kingsley_ in his own mind if not aloud—settled Blaise on the edge of the table, practiced hands undoing his trouser's fastenings until his penis was poking out between the placket halves. It was only half-hard, but when the—Kingsley—leaned forward and blew gently on it, Blaise's eyes rolled into the back of his head; the power contained in that breath was so heated, so lush, he felt overcome and his cock, for that's what it was doing, rising to the occasion like a cockerel with the sun—stiffened under Kingsley's watchful gaze.

"Have you been touched by an other incubus before, little one?" Kingsley said so closely to Blaise's cock that it vibrated in sympathy with the timbre of his deep voice. 

"N-n-no..." Blaise moaned. His power was thrashing inside its cage, crying out for release.

"We do not touch one another, little one. We _breathe_ into each other." And, suiting words to action, Kingsley placed both hands on the sides of Blaise's thighs and blew a steady stream of heat, and light, and power onto the young man's penis, stiffening it still further, until it was a polished bit of darkened porcelain, a rubbed and worked piece of purplish jade that throbbed and bounced with each broken breath Blaise took in and let loose.

Kingsley leaned back enough to gaze into Blaise's eyes. "Don't hold back, little one. I am no mere mortal. You are incubus, and you should revel in it." He put his head back down, closer now, but still not touching and put his open mouth just above the weeping cockhead. _"Give me your essence, little one, and I will return it tenfold."_

Those words, spoken in the ancient tongue did something to Blaise and thrust up, hoping to find Kingsley's mouth _right there_... Unfortunately, he met nothing but air, heated, burning, pressurized air that wrapped around him and pulsed and twisted until he was a wreck and coming all over his lap and his stomach.

Kingsley stood up and moved away, a smirk on his dark face. "Good. You're young, little one, but I can see you have great power inside you." He moved back around the table, waiting for Blaise to tiredly drag himself off of it and into his chair, his trousers still undone and the evidence of his pleasure still visible. "Let me help you." Kingsley pulled out his wand and set Blaise to rights.

He seated himself and waited until Blaise looked him in the face. "Mr. Zabini, I will make a note of your condition in the _private_ files, but rest assured, it will go no farther than us for the time being." His voice was clipped, the welcoming richness of it muted with those words.

"I take our interview is over then?" Blaise asked as he stood up from his chair.

"The interview is over, Mr. Zabini, but I look forward to furthering our acquaintance outside of Hogwarts. After all, you'll be needing a sympathetic sponsor after all this trouble, won't you?" The auror's smirk was pronounced as he watched Blaise think on his veiled offer.

"It behooves me to gain the most knowledge from the best source. So, yes, we'll meet again." He walked out of the room, closing the door carefully behind him and then collapsing onto the wall nearby. His legs were like rubber, he hadn't orgasmed like that in...ever! 

_"Parkinson, Pansy report to the Transfiguration Classroom."_

Blaise pushed off of the wall and walked slowly back toward Slytherin. He had to write his mother about the newest man in his life.

§¤§¤*§*¤§¤§ 

_~~~ Comments, like rain in the desert, are greatly appreciated.  
Thank you for reading. ~~~_

**Author's Note:**

> On 26th November 2015 06:44 - Elfflame asked for the following stuffing:
> 
> **Pairing(s)/Character(s):** Kingsley/Blaise  
>  **Kink(s):** Coal (AKA Squicks): Bodily fluids, violence, noncon  
>  **Prompt:** Post-battle interview in one of the Hogwarts school rooms.


End file.
